


Whatever Makes you Happy

by sara_holmes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_holmes/pseuds/sara_holmes
Summary: Post Avengers-breakup, and things are actually (finally) looking up. In fact, things are going so well that Steve doesn't believe it, and is pretty much convinced that something terrible must be happening somewhere.Also known as "STEVE NO" and "GDI STEVE WOULD IT KILL YOU TO BE HAPPY FOR ONCE."





	

**Author's Note:**

> The crew at Friday Write Date Night are to blame for this one. Inspired by them, and that time in comics where Steve was happy so he got suspicious and threw himself off a roof to prove he was in a fake reality. Drama queen.
> 
> Don't worry, he doesn't do anything dumb or drastic in this fic. He has a Bucky to make him see sense.

**** Steve’s smile when Bucky comes out of cryo is both blinding and heart-breaking. The mist clears and Bucky literally falls out of his stasis tube, wavering and unsteady and trying weakly to smile back. Luckily, Clint and Wanda are there to catch him, even if he only has eyes for Steve right now.

“You’re like a big drunk baby,” Clint says, grunting with effort as he hauls Bucky’s arm over his shoulder. He manages to keep him from pitching face-first into the floor, just. “Wanda, check that his brain is in one piece.”

“Wow. Your tact astounds me,” Sam says dryly, from where he's leaning back against the console, casual as he pleases. “Steve, calm down, he’s fine.”

The world goes red for a moment and then the red is gone and the world is filled with Steve instead. He takes over from Clint and holds Bucky up with one arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Bucky flush up against him. His other hand settles on Bucky’s cheek, big and warm and reassuring.

“You’re okay. We fixed you right up,” Steve croaks out, and the big lug is crying, actually crying.

“Alright,” Bucky manages to say. His tongue feels clumsy inside his mouth. “No more trigger phrases?”

“No more trigger phrases,” Wanda confirms.

“Happy new brain day!” Clint cheers, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Wanda, are you sure?” Steve frets. “What if-”

“Are you doubting me?” Wanda asks, but she’s smiling. “He is fine, Steve.”

Steve nods jerkily, his hand pushing Bucky’s hair back from his face.

“Stop worrying,” Bucky tells Steve, patting at his collarbone. “Jesus. You’re here. Can I say I love you now?”

Steve stares at him and then starts to cry all over again, hauling Bucky in for a hug, crushing him against his chest. Bucky feels a bit like crying himself too, pushing Steve’s head back and pressing a wobbly kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, now a lot of things make sense,” says Clint.

“About damn time,” says Sam.

* * *

 

 

“I can't believe you’re here,” Steve says. He lies next to Bucky, propped up on his elbow, other hand on Bucky’s stomach. Every so often he'll lean in to kiss Bucky, mouth soft and eyes full of wonder. He seems addicted to it, cutting himself off mid-sentence to press their mouths together. 

“Better believe it,” Bucky says, slipping his hand under his head and wriggling to get comfy. The bed is obscene; acres of white softness and fluffy down. He’d happily sleep on the floor though if it meant Steve was here with him.   

“Can’t,” Steve says, but he’s grinning, laughing and tucking his face into Bucky’s armpit, his fingers tightening on the undershirt Bucky is wearing, like he’s scared to let go.  

* * *

 

 

And once again, Bucky wakes up at the asscrack of the morning, taking a moment to breathe and settle his anxious-racing heart. The fans thud near-silently overhead, keeping the room cool as the sun wakes up outside, bathing Wakanda in heat. Bucky thinks that stepping outside is not unlike dunking himself in a hot bath. He kinda likes it; after years of being on ice the heat feels wonderfully decadent.

And once again, Steve is awake already, sleepily blinking at Bucky with careful eyes.

Bucky grunts sleepily at him and rolls over. “I’m not going anywhere, idiot. What, you think Hydra are going to steal me in the night?”

“Among other things,” Steve murmurs, shuffling forwards and plastering his front to Bucky’s back, winding an arm around Bucky’s middle. It’s too damn hot for that sort of nonsense but Steve won’t be dissuaded. 

“You’ll get me all hot and sweaty,” Bucky murmurs, already dozing back off.

“Just the way I like you,” Steve mumbles, and Bucky can't help but laugh.

 

* * *

And everyone falls silent as the helicopter circles overhead, slowly starting to descend. Bucky watches from behind his sunglasses, feels Steve’s hand casually find his, fingers threading together. He squeezes back, comfort and reassurance that he knows Steve still needs.

The chopper lands, blades whining as they slow down; they're still rotating lazily as the door opens. Nat is first out, red hair gleaming in the sun as she jumps down and reaches for her companion; a small brown haired girl who is clutching a stuffed rabbit under her arm, letting Nat swing her down onto the sun-warmed tarmac of the helipad.

“Peanut!”

Scott is off like a shot, Clint not far behind him. Scott literally falls to his knees as the girl jumps at him, and they both end up sprawled across the tarmac in a heap of giddy laughter. Clint hits Natasha about three seconds later, grabbing her and lifting her off her feet with the force of the tackle-hug. She laughs too, hands on his shoulders as she allows him to spin her around.

“S’nice,” Bucky comments, smiling. 

“Hmm,” Steve says. He doesn’t sound convinced. “We should get them inside, where it’s safe.”

“Lighten up,” Bucky tells him. “You're such a downer.”

Steve replies with a shove to Bucky’s shoulder, sending him staggering a couple of steps sideways. He utterly undermines himself by keeping hold of Bucky’s hand, reeling him back in. He sighs heavily, pulling Bucky close and kissing his forehead.

“Can’t shake the feeling something’s going to go wrong.”

“Stop it,” Bucky says, pinching him.

“Ow, you stop it,” Steve says, grabbing Bucky’s wrist. “I just - good things never last, you know?”

“It will,” Bucky says, tilting his head up to kiss Steve’s jaw. “Trust me, it will.”

Steve sighs again, watching the reunion with happy-sad eyes, his worry etched into every line of his face.  

 

* * *

 

The phone rings.

Steve looks at it like it’s a bomb going to explode. His jaw sets and he looks at Bucky, grim expression clearly saying  _ ‘I told you things would go South.’ _

“Answer it,” Bucky says, gesturing impatiently to the phone as it rattles its way across the glass surface of the coffee table.

Steve does, opening the phone up and setting it on speaker. he's sitting right on the edge of the couch; an inch forwards and he'll be on his ass on the floor. “Tony,” he says, voice level, big anxious eyes on Bucky.

“I forgive you,” Tony’s voice says immediately. “There, I said it first, so I get to be magnanimous despite my heartbreak.”

Steve’s mouth falls open. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you are still on my shit list,” Tony says breezily. “And boy you have some grovelling to do, you know that? Like, a thousand years worth.”

Steve tries to collect himself. “Tony, I-” he tries. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes you do,” Tony says simply.

Steve leans his elbow on his knee, forehead braced on his knuckles. He closes his eyes, swallows hard. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I did wrong by you and I’m so sorry.”

“Atta boy,” Tony says, more gently than Bucky expected. “Good start. Ten out of ten for apologizing. Maybe a nine because it took you so long.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Steve begins.

Tony makes an impatient noise, cutting him off. “I know, but I do forgive you, stop belittling my choice, Cap. Shit happens, family works past it, you know? I’m being the bigger man, here.”

“You’re being the better man,” Steve says.

Tony laughs. “Glad you recognize that,” he says. “Look, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be in the same room as Barnes, but I promise that I won’t try and hurt him. My emotionally-charged response is done with, no more violence. I know it wasn’t really him.”

Steve looks close to tears again. Bucky silently slides onto the couch next to him, pressing his cheek to the back of Steve‘s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Steve says. “I - You should know - I don’t want -”

“Spit it out, Cap.”

“I’m in love with him,” Steve says, his hand reaching back to hold onto Bucky. “He’s here and he’s awake, and I love him.”

“Well of course you do,” Tony says. “Congratulations on waiting eighty years to make a move. That must be a record. You’re an idiot, Steve, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Go and be with your boyfriend. I’ll call you in a few days. And Cap? I know it’s not the same. It’s really not the same; I’d preface this statement by saying ‘no-homo’ if saying 'no-homo' weren’t bullshit that perpetuates the notion that guys can’t give affection. But that's the essence of it. In a very platonic, non-romantic way, I love you too, okay?”

Steve’s grip on Bucky gets tighter. “Yeah,” he says helplessly. “Yeah. I love you too, Tony.”

“Don’t you forget it,” Tony says, and then he’s gone. The phone goes dark and Bucky pulls Steve back and holds him tight as he sobs in what is probably equal parts shock and relief. 

 

* * *

Using the excuse of celebrating a month of Bucky being awake, Bucky and Steve go out for dinner one night. Considering it’s their first ever official date, Bucky kind of wishes that Steve could just enjoy it, rather than constantly scanning the room for threats, looking like he’s there under duress.

He eases off when they get back to the apartment though. Stands behind Bucky as Bucky watches the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Palm trees stand tall and stoic, the cooling evening breeze carrying the sounds of the city up to them. The first stars are just starting to show, winking in the deep navy sky.

“Sorry,” Steve says without prompting. He slides his hands onto Bucky’s hips, presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “Waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Guess I’ll have to distract you,” Bucky says. “Get you out of that pretty dumb head of yours.”

Steve laughs softly, warm breath sending goosebumps over Bucky’s skin. “You saying I’m pretty dumb, or pretty and dumb?”

“Both,” Bucky says, and leans in to kiss him.

 

* * *

In all fairness, getting laid does cheer Steve up for at least twelve hours. It’s when Bucky makes a joke about it in front of Sam that it all goes downhill; Steve frowning and chewing on his lip like he’s worried that Sam is going to object.

Luckily, Sam has got Bucky’s back.

“I can’t believe that you’re still looking like the world is ending,” he says, gathering his things. “I’m going to find Clint. Barnes, take that boy back to bed and cheer him the hell up.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Bucky drawls, and Steve blushes all the way down to his pecs. Bucky makes it a mission to remove the rest of his clothing, just to check how far down it actually goes.

 

* * *

Bucky gets surgery to attach a new arm, and Steve is unbearable, panicking about complications and anesthesia.

Sam goes on a date with one of the Dora Milaje, and Steve does nothing but worry about Sam getting physically and/or emotionally hurt.

Scott takes Cassie out to explore the forests south of the city, and Steve frets about kidnapping and animal attacks and poisonous plants. 

It gets to the point where someone going to get groceries or Tony texting or loud noises make Steve think something terrible is about to happen, and it makes Bucky’s heart break every time.

 

* * *

“So, Tony says we’ve all officially been pardoned by the United Nations,” Natasha says over breakfast one morning. 

Clint chokes on his cereal. “What?" he gapes, Cheerios stuck to his chin. "You’re shitting me!?”

“No, it’s all official, just waiting on some signatures,” Natasha says, but Clint is whooping delightedly, tossing his spoon in the air and reaching over to kiss her right on the mouth, Cheerios and all.

“About damn time!” Sam cheers, getting up and hugging Scott, who looks just as thrilled. 

“Even me?” Wanda asks.

“Yes,” Natasha says, and Wanda looks so happy she’s almost crying, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Sam wraps an arm around her shoulders, laughing and beaming at Natasha.

“Are we sure?” Steve asks, frowning. “Whose signatures? Someone we can trust?”

“Oh goddammit it!” Bucky explodes, and Clint jumps a mile. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now, Steve?”

The rest of the room falls silent, the merriment fading. Steve presses his lips together hard, looking down at the table, mullish and stubborn.

“We just need to be pragmatic about this,” he says.

Bucky has had enough. “Would it kill you to be happy for two goddamn seconds?” 

“I just don’t want to get ahead-” Steve begins.

“Oh, shut up Steve,” Bucky says, irritated beyond all rhyme and reason. “I’m going out.”

He gets up and walks off, slamming the door on his way out.

 

* * *

And Steve comes to find him, of course he does. Bucky is on the beach, sitting with his back against a palm tree, boots and socks discarded next to him as he digs his bare toes through the warm sand. Steve doesn’t say anything to begin with, just stands watching the waves roll back and forth for a while before sitting down next to Bucky.

“I didn’t think you were leaving me,” he says, bringing his knees up and looping his arms around them, holding onto one wrist with his other hand.

Bucky is still not feeling charitable towards Steve in the slightest. “Good for you.”

“No, I mean,” Steve tries. “I’m pissing you off because I’m seeing the worst in everything. But you walked out and I didn’t think you were leaving. I just thought you were pissed off at me for not being happy.”

“I am,” Bucky says. “We’re alive, we're free, and if I can find some goddamn happiness in this world after what happened to me then you have to as well.”

“When you put it like that,” Steve murmurs, and holds a hand out, palm up. Bucky sighs and slips his metal hand into Steve’s, linking their fingers together.

“I feel like I’m dreaming when I’m happy,” Steve says, like it’s a confession. “Like I’m in a world that’s not meant for me.”

“And that’s okay, it'll take some getting used to after the hell we've been through,” Bucky says. “But don’t shoot it down yourself. I know we’ve probably got shit coming in the future, but that’s no reason to not enjoy things while we have them.”

Steve hums at that, though doesn’t look convinced. His brow is all wrinkled up as he stares out at the glittering waves, lost in whatever misery he’s chosen for himself today.

“Hey," Bucky says, nudging him with his knee. "What makes you happy?”

“Justice,” Steve replies, mouth twitching. Bucky reaches out to pinch him, then decides it’s not enough and goes for a full assault; he shoves Steve over onto his back in the sand, sitting across his waist. Steve goes without too much of a fight, allowing Bucky to pin him pretty easily.

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Try again.”

“World peace?”

“Take this seriously!” Bucky insists. “Take your own happiness seriously, for chrissakes, Steve.”

Steve looks suitably chastised, though he's now wriggling like he’s testing the resistance against Bucky’s hold. He’s got no chance; Bucky’s thighs are an immovable force. “I don’t know, alright?”

“Start thinking,” Bucky says. “Or I’m going to bury your miserable hide in sand and leave you to die.”

Steve huffs, head falling back against the sand with a soft thud. “Okay, calm down,” he says. “Okay. You make me happy.”

“Too generic. Do better.”

“Being close to you,” Steve amends, cheeks going faintly pink. “Holding your hand. Hearing you talk. Being able to stroke your hair.”

“Better,” Bucky allows. “What else?”

Steve settles more comfortably, giving up on trying to get away and putting his hands on Bucky’s thighs. “Drawing?” he says, though it comes out like a question. “Though I feel like a time waster when I do it. Um, food? Good food. Eating good food makes me happy,” he clarifies, squinting up at Bucky. “Still going to bury me and leave me to die?”

“Your odds are about sixty-forty right now.”

Steve licks his lips. “Better even that up,” he says, and Bucky nods. “Okay. I like...music. Listening to good music.”

“Fifty-fifty.”

“I like making people smile,” Steve says. “My friends. I like spending time with my friends. Inside, though. Somewhere we can just relax and not have to think about other people.”

“Good,” Bucky encourages. “That’s a good one, seeing as we like hanging out with you too.”

That makes Steve smile, an honest if not fragile quirk of his lips. “Chess,” he suddenly says out of nowhere. “I like playing chess. And solving puzzles. Those ones with the numbers and the squares.”

“Sudoku?”

“Bless you,” Steve replies, utterly straight-faced, and Bucky grabs a handful of sand in warning.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, but he’s laughing. “I’m sorry, Buck. I just - you put me on the spot here.”

“And I’m not sorry,” Bucky says, and drops his handful of sand, wiping his palm on Steve’s shirt. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anymore. I just wanted you to - I don’t know. Just consider being happy? Think that you can be happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, and shimmies up onto his elbows. “I haven’t been great, have I?”

“No,” Bucky says honestly. “But it’s okay. I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m not used to happy,” Steve says quietly. Bucky gently tilts his head up and kisses him sweet and slow.

“Try and get used to it,” he murmurs against Steve’s mouth. “For me?”

“Alright,” Steve replies. “I guess I could give it a shot."

"You better," Bucky says. "I think Sam is about ready to kick your ass, too."

Steve huffs out a laugh and Bucky lets him sit up. He ends up kneeling over Steve's  lap and takes it as an opportunity to hold Steve close, arms around his neck and real hand gently stroking the short hair on the nape of his neck. Steve hums contentedly, arms winding around Bucky's middle, burying his face in Bucky's chest. He's quiet and calm for a few minutes, and there's nothing but the sound of their breathing and the soft crashing of the waves nearby.

"Hey," Steve suddenly says, lifting his chin up. "Can I add something to my list of things that make me happy?”

“Go on.”

“Making out with Bucky on the beach and pretending I don’t like it when he cops a feel?”

Bucky laughs at that, leaning down to brush his nose against Steve’s, “Yeah, that can go on the list,” he says, and he’s still smiling when Steve rolls them over in the sand, kissing him breathless. 

 


End file.
